Danny
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: Daniel Huff, younger brother of Brad Huff, barely escapes Iroquiois High on May 1st, 2001, and has to deal with a changed life afterward.


**Danny**

* * *

Danny Huff jerked as if someone had kicked him in the back as hard as they could. He tried to keep running, but suddenly he couldn't seem to continue his sprint. He stumbled, tripped, and crashed to the floor in the center of the hallway.

Mark, Zack and Josh kept running.

"Come back!" Danny screamed. "No! Don't leave me! You can't just leave me!"

Danny's words were almost drowned out by gunfire; bullets shattered the windows of the double doors and one of the three boys cried out in terror. They didn't glance back until they were at the end of the hall, nearing the double doors, and even then, they glanced past him, behind him.

To where the guys with the guns were standing. Danny could hear the laughter, hear them talking. He knew those voices.

"Don't run, you assholes!" Danny screamed at them in fear, in terror. Agonizing pain shot up his back when he tried to stand up, and for some reason, he could not stand up. He couldn't even get his legs under him to start trying.

Mark tripped and missed getting shot by inches. Zack hauled him up. Josh hit the doors running and held them open while the other two boys ran. Several more gunshots hit the doors, but they were poorly aimed and Danny could see his friends getting away clean as the doors swung closed.

"Help! Somebody help me! Please!" Danny yelled. But the hallway was deserted and nobody answered him.

 _Okay_ , Danny thought feverishly, in pain and desperation. _I can crawl. I got strong arms, I can just crawl until I can get up and run again._

Danny resolutely started to pull himself along, one arm in front of the other, the way he'd been taught to do when Coach made them do bear crawls at practice. The double doors might as well have been a mile away. Danny was breathing hard, sweating so much beads of it were raining down on the floor.

This couldn't be how Danny Huff died. He was _not_ going out like this.

 _Come on, crawl. Crawl. Keep going_.

"Hey, look, he's trying to get away!" a boy said from behind Danny.

Two boys laughed, loud and mocking.

"I think we found our consolation prize," a deep-sounding senior's voice said.

"Yeah, and I put a bullet in his back."

"You know if this was hunting you could take his balls or something."

"Neither of us are hunters, Andre."

 _Crawl. Crawl, goddamn it_!

"No, we're not, but that's not the fucking- hey, he's still going!"

Boots clop-clop-clopped on the floor as someone ran up to him. That someone smashed the butt of a rifle into his back, and white-hot agony flared. Danny screamed.

"I think the wound's still tender," a blond boy said, coming into view in front of Danny, who ignored him and kept crawling.

"Here, lemme shoot him," the deeper voice said. "I always wanted to see what a shotgun could do at point-blank to a persons' head. Nah, lemme use the revolver. Okay, here we go."

The warm steel of a gun barrel was pressed against the back of Danny's head.

Danny kept crawling.

"Hey, kid," the blond said, "are you DEAD YET?"

The last two words were shouted right into his ear. Danny winced and kept crawling. A boot suddenly came down on his right hand, and Danny howled.

"Come on, CRAWL, kid!" the blond screamed. "Crawl, Private! Move, move, move!"

Danny forced himself to keep going. His back glowed with pain and his right hand felt red-hot, but he kept crawling. The door didn't seem any closer.

Andre laughed. "Dude, this kid's all used up. Lemme shoot him."

The boot kicked against Danny's ribs, again and again, until he felt something snap and he screamed. Then he was kicked, shoved, until he was lying on his back. The world rotated around him, swimming in and out of focus.

"Please," Danny whimpered. "Brad! Mom! Moooom!"

The two boys laughed uproariously at that one.

"That's good," the blond said. "Big, bad Danny Huff gets shot and kicked a couple times and he's crying for his mommy."

"Brad's dead, Danny," Andre said, holding up a gleaming revolver. "I shot him with this. Blew his fuckin' brains right outta his head. You ever seen somebody's brains get blown out?"

"Honestly, your bro didn't have a lot to lose," the blond said, and the two boys both laughed.

Brad was dead? Had he been trying to save Danny? Maybe he was on his way here. They were lying. They had to be. Brad was invincible. He couldn't die.

"Braaaaaaaaad!" Danny cried. He sucked in another breath, but the blond stomped him and all the air rushed out.

"Shut up! Shut the _fuck up_! Your stupid brother's not coming to save you, you worthless fuckin' piece of _shit_!"

Danny tried to kick at the blond then, but the signals were still scrambled. His legs didn't move.

"Just kill him," Andre said. "Come on, Cal. We got to keep going."

"No," Calvin said. He knelt by Danny, who shivered and tried to get away, his eyes rolling fearfully. "Hey, kid. Your brother died screaming like a little bitch. We cut his balls off before we blew his fuckin' head off. It was awesome."

"Go to Hell," Danny hissed, putting all the hatred he could into those three words.

"You first."

Danny was trembling and shaking. Tears welled in his eyes and ran down his face. He had never known such pain.

The blond, whom Danny recognized now as Calvin Gabriel, smiled, and it was like watching a demon smile. "You're in a lot of pain, aren't you?"

Before Danny could raise a hand to flip him off, Calvin jabbed him in the side with the rifle and Danny screamed again.

"Yeah. You are. Well, you get to live, kid. But I put a bullet right in your back, and your legs don't seem to work, so, enjoy being paralyzed. I guess you won't be taking over the wrestling team from Bradley."

The two older boys laughed.

"Fuck. You." Danny forced the words out, even as his body twitched and jerked, sending searing pain through him.

Calvin laughed. "Hey, Andre, he said 'Fuck you'. Isn't that fuckin' original?"

"Fuck. You."

"Whatever you say, kid. Have a nice life." Calvin mockingly patted Danny on the shoulder, then he and Andre moved out, heading around a corner and out of sight. The gunshots began again moments later.

 **XX**

Danny didn't know how long he lay there on the cold floor of the hallway, crying and struggling to turn himself over again, trying to crawl out. He couldn't move his legs. He couldn't so much as move a toe! What the hell was wrong?

The gunfire continued for a while, echoing throughout the school. Danny listened. He wept. He tried to move himself but failed, and soon gave that up.

Eventually, he started hearing Great-Grandpa talking about the war again, even though he'd died years ago. A while after that, Danny heard sounds like someone was opening the double doors.

People in uniforms and guns came in. Danny paid no attention to them. He wasn't sure they were even real. He was, by then, half-convinced he was dead.

Some other people in uniforms showed up. They stopped and stayed, unlike the other people. They asked Danny questions, but he just stared at them. They felt his hand, his neck, talked to each other. They tried to move him and Danny screamed.

The lower part of Danny's back felt wet, and he heard them say the word "blood" a few times. Danny let them examine him, look at him. Once, he would have joked about how they better take his shirt off if they wanted a real look at someone fit and gorgeous.

But Danny was in unimaginable pain and he didn't feel like joking. _Ow, my back hurts, man. I can't move my legs. Leave me alone, dude. Coach is gonna fucking kill me if I'm late to practice. I gotta get to practice._

"You're not gonna be late to practice," an EMT said. "You're gonna be all right." He had blond hair, was almost Brad's age. As the guy worked, Danny relaxed. He soon became convinced that Brad, his big brother, his hero, had at last returned to save him.

"Thanks, Brad," Danny said faintly. "Thanks for coming back. I knew you'd come back for me."

"What's your name?"

"Danny…"

"Brad your older brother?"

At this, Danny managed a weak laugh. "Brad, you forgot my name? C'mon. You're losing it, dude."

"We're gonna have to move you, Danny. But the morphine should help."

"Oh, man, don't stick anything in my arm, Brad. I don't like needles."

"Okay, lift him- now."

Several pairs of strong hands picked Danny up, and moved him to some kind of bed-thing with wheels.

"Brad," Danny said, turning his head, reaching out. "Brad!"

"Yeah, man, I'm here," the blond, fit EMT said. His sewn-on nametag swam in and out of focus. Danny couldn't read it and just assumed it said "Brad". What the hell else would it say?

Danny tried to sit up as the bed-thing began rolling, but they had strapped him down or something. But he found he was pretty relaxed anyway. He didn't even care now. It was wonderful. After being alone with nothing but pain for what felt like years, Danny didn't even give a fuck anymore.

But as relaxed as he felt, what came out of Danny's mouth was, "I'm scared, Brad."

"You're gonna be okay. Just stay with me, okay, Danny?"

They rolled him outside into the sunlight, and Danny winced. "Ah, man, that hurts, dude."

"The ambulance is right here. We'll get you in quick, don't worry."

Danny must have passed out after that or something, because he couldn't remember being put into the ambulance. Next thing he knew, they were shutting the doors.

"No!" Danny screamed at the top of his lungs. "No! Please don't leave me! _Pleasedon'tleavemeIdon'twannadielikethis_!"

"Hey, Danny! Danny!"

The panicking fifteen-year-old started to hyperventilate, and he heard beeping sounds from machines and screens around him. But then he saw Brad, his brother- who had become an EMT overnight, apparently- leaning close and taking his uninjured left hand.

Somehow, that brought him back. Danny wept. "I'm scared, Brad. I don't wanna die like this, man. Please don't leave me. Please."

"Danny," Brad said, " _I am here_. You understand?"

"Yeah. Okay. Yeah…"

"I will not leave you. I'm with you all the way. You're gonna be all right."

"Please don't leave me, Brad," Danny begged. "Help. Help me. I can't- I can't feel my legs!"

"You're gonna be all right, Danny. You're gonna be all right."

Danny passed out then, and the pain was gone. He thought he had died. But as the world went dark and his eyes slammed shut, Danny still felt the EMT holding his hand, and he refused to let go of his last remaining link to the world.

 **XX**

Brad Huff had never felt so alone and so scared. Mom and Dad, who always knew what to do, had been at a loss when the shooting ended and no one could find Danny. Brad had made it out alongside Charlie Jenkins and Timothy Anders, but no one knew where Omar Walters was, and people were saying Leon Stetz, the school cop, was dead. Brad had been swapping jokes with him on Monday.

Right now, Brad was doing his best not to use all his considerable strength to bull-rush through the hospital until they found Danny, but he had to guide his mother, who was beside herself with fear and grief at what might have happened. What had almost happened.

Danny was alive, and he was staying in this hospital. That was all they knew. Everything else was a mystery.

A doctor came out of the room with the number Brad was told, and Brad almost ran him over.

"Hold on-"

"What? What, what, _what_?" Brad fired at him. "Do you know who I am? I'm gonna see Danny and if you try to stop me-"

"I assume you're his brother?"

"What the fuck do you _think_?" Brad almost shouted. "Yes, I'm Bradley Huff! Can I see Danny now?"

The doctor, who had dealt with the shouting and crying of countless soldiers in Vietnam, stayed calm as Brad ranted and yelled at him. Finally, Brad felt a hand on his shoulder. Mom, Dad- it didn't matter. He ran out of steam.

"Are you Mr. and Mrs. Huff?"

"We are," Dad answered. "Bradley is just scared. We all are."

"I understand. Can I see you alone, please? Briefly?"

"I can't leave my wife."

"Let us see our son!" Mom demanded. "I-I want to see my boy! He's my boy, let me see him and- and I need to know he's all right!"

"I'll go, Dad. I'll talk to him. Look, Doc, I'm eighteen and everything, so, just tell me whatever you need to."

The doctor hesitated, then motioned led Brad around a corner. He lowered his voice and said, "Your brother's been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few days now. He's suffered a broken rib, a broken bone in his hand, and a lot of bruising-"

"What the hell- I can see him, right? Why can't you tell me that while I'm in there?"

"He's paralyzed."

The world tilted, and Brad was sure he hadn't heard. Paralyzed? What the hell did that mean?

"It means he can't walk."

"Oh. Uh…" Brad was startled; he hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.

"We got the bullet out that he took in the spinal cord, but… he's not gonna walk again. He doesn't know. He's been asking about you every time any of us come in. He doesn't really remember what happened, but he knows you made it out and he's been asking to see you."

"Why didn't you get me over here the second he woke up?" Brad demanded.

"We wanted to, but his condition hasn't been very stable until now. He was pretty beat up. But I needed to prepare you. Someone has to break the news to him, and, if you'd rather not, I've done it before."

"No," Brad said. "I'll tell him. I'll do it."

 **XX**

Danny was napping when one of the pretty nurses came in and gently shook his shoulder, along with that old doc who was always nice to him. Everybody in this hospital was nice.

"Danny, someone's here to see you," the nurse said.

"What? Who?" Danny asked, looking up from his little cup of pudding.

"Come on in, everyone," the doctor said, looking out into the hall.

The visitors started to walk in, and at first Danny didn't recognize them. He couldn't believe it. There was no way. But there was- it was him- it was him!

"BRAD!"

"Yeah, it's me, little squirt," Brad said, rushing over and hugging his brother.

Danny broke down completely. He cried and cried, the sobs shaking his body, letting all his fear and the terrible nightmares come tumbling out. He had never been so frightened in all his life. He was alive and that had never felt so good. They'd lifted him out of the school and put him on that ambulance, and Danny had been sure that was the end.

But it hadn't been the end. Brad was here, and they were both alive. They'd made it despite what those freaks had tried to do. Danny wanted to jump for joy, but they'd said he needed to rest, so he contented himself with keeping his arms around Brad's neck, burying his face in Brad's muscular wrestler's shoulders, seeking the comfort and safety of his hero, his big brother.

"Danny," Mom said, and Danny cried harder as he saw her, blurry through his tears, and Dad. He cried out to them and they were there, crying along with Brad. Danny was alive. He was alive. His family was alive. Everything was gonna be all right.

It was a long time before anybody could speak. The long days and sleepless nights had taken a toll on Mom, Dad and Brad, and Danny could barely remember anything from May 1st onward. He had basically slept the whole time.

Slowly, very slowly, they composed themselves, and Danny noticed the pudding cup. He'd hurled it to the floor when he threw out his arms, reaching for his older brother. He tried to reach for it with his bandaged right hand, but he drew it back quickly. They had said a bone was broken there. He'd better not upset the pretty nurses by using that hand.

But that was his favorite hand for jerking off. Danny needed to jerk off. It was an odd thing to think of and kind of ruined the moment that had just happened, but Danny did need to. How the Christ was he gonna do that if his hand was wrapped up in bandages?

 **XX**

They talked about random stuff for quite a while. Mom kept asking about how Danny was doing, what he wanted to do when he got out of here. Football and wrestling, naturally, were Danny's answers. Dad said that the family was going to the Bahamas for a month once all the business here in town was taken care of.

Brad just kept breaking out into goofy, awkward smiles of relief. Danny would have called him gay for it any other time, but not now. He let it go just this once.

Eventually, though, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier, and Danny noticed everyone was looking at him. Brad cleared his throat.

"Uh, Danny…"

"What?" Danny asked, instantly alert. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Well, yes. Yes, something- look, I-I don't know how… oh, man…"

Brad rubbed his hands together, stared at the floor with his elbows on his knees. Danny frowned. The blond eighteen-year-old looked unsure of himself, and that was something he had never seen in his older brother.

"Brad," Danny asked quietly, "what's going on? What is it, dude?"

"Danny…" Brad began, and Danny was spooked as he saw his brother was crying.

"Can you just tell me what happened?" Danny begged.

"Doc says you're paralyzed, Danny. You're not gonna walk again."

Danny held up his hands suddenly, as if to ward the words off. He laughed. "Brad, that- that- that's crazy, man-"

"No, Doc says you took a bullet in the back, like, in your spine. You're gonna live, but… uh… you're not gonna walk again."

 _I can't feel my legs_.

"Brad," Danny said, "Calvin Gabriel. He- he shot me." Danny started to tremble as he remembered. "He shot me and I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't feel my legs. I didn't wanna die. I didn't…"

For a while, Danny rambled aimlessly. He couldn't remember where he was, or what had happened. He only knew that his legs didn't work anymore and never would again. His hero had told him he would never walk again. Brad was never wrong and he never lied, but what he was saying was impossible.

"Brad," Danny managed to say, "tell me it's not true, man. Tell me it's not."

"It's true, Danny. I'm so sorry, man."

"I wanna go play football, I wanna go out for varsity next year! I- we still have practice before the year ends, and wrestling practice, too! I can't just- I can't just be some- some freak in a chair!"

"You won't be," Brad said. "And if anyone says otherwise I'll show 'em what life's like with no teeth."

"What about the guys who shot everybody? What happened to them?"

"They're dead."

"Good."

There was a long, long pause. No one in the room said a word. Danny reached out and took one of Brad's hands. "Brad."

"Yeah, Danny?"

"I'm never gonna play football again. Or wrestle. Or run the track at school."

"No," Brad said quietly. "You're not."

"I wish I'd gotten shot for a better reason."

Brad stared. "Like what, Danny?"

"I wish I'd gotten shot trying to protect you."

Mom lost it at that one. "Oh, Daniel…"

"Danny," Brad said, visibly struggling with himself. "I-I can't… I don't…"

"We're gonna get their families, right, Dad? We're gonna sue them?"

"Yes. The least anyone can do is ensure those at fault are held responsible." Dad was being even more formal than usual, falling back on the legal profession's way of speaking to keep himself under control.

"Good." Danny let himself lie back against the raised section of the bed behind him.

"I'm sorry, Danny. I'm so sorry."

"Did- did Mark make it out? Him, and Josh and Zack?"

"Yeah." Brad paused. "They're saying you took the bullet on purpose. You kept Andre and Calvin busy so they could escape."

"But I didn't do anything like that."

"They all said they heard you say, "Leave me! Go!"

"But I didn't say-"

"That's what they heard, man. That's all I know."

Danny shook his head. He was so confused. "I'm not sure what happened. I don't know. I'm tired."

"I'll stay here with you. So will Dad and Mom."

"Okay. I'm gonna take a nap. Tell Coach I can't make it to practice."

Brad managed to laugh. "Okay. I'll tell him."

"Thanks, Brad."

 **XX**

Danny closed his eyes, intending to just sleep for a few minutes, like he'd said. He slept for a few minutes, well past visiting hours and on into the next morning. In a series of dreams that he barely remembered the next morning, Danny walked, ran, played in football games, worked out at the gym on leg day, got laid and hit the tennis courts with some of his friends from New Stratford Academy and Essex School.

He did things he would never do again and enjoyed them all, because he knew it was over, that he was never going to walk again.

Early in the afternoon of the day after that, Danny woke up from another nap and found himself in a great mood. He amused himself by throwing things across the room until he got a lecture from one of the hot nurses. Then Danny became apologetic and started flirting. Best part was, she had to help him shower. They had learned the patient was a lot more cooperative if a pretty nurse was involved.

Danny was miserable at the thought of being paralyzed, so he thought of it as little as possible. He made them get him a chair and started wheeling himself around the hallways, determined to at least keep his arms strong. Danny was in the middle of that, trying to get away from the hot nurse who was his minder again, when that old guy showed up.

"Hello, Danny."

"Whatcha want, Pops?"

"I'd like you to call me Dr. Kahler."

"Nah, dude."

"I might admit a visitor to see you if you could do that for once."

"Okay, Dr. Kahler, what's up, my dude? What's happening, bruh?"

"I'll let Brad know he can come see you. Stay here. Allison, see that he stays."

Danny immediately went for the wheels to make his escape, but Allison held onto the handles on the back.

"Aww, c'mon."

"Dr. Kahler said no."

"Dr. Kahler's an old fogey. So, are you free later?"

"Aren't you a little young?"

"Allison, I'm young enough for you. I'm old enough. I'm whatever you want me to be."

Allison laughed.

Brad showed up after a few minutes, and he guided Danny back into his room. Danny didn't let on that he sometimes felt nothing but despair now. He felt good, but he also felt miserable, and he was forcing himself to focus on the former. He was determined to be macho and tough, like Brad was. He had to show he wasn't beaten.

"Danny," Brad said, "I got some news for you."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Well, first off, you're going home soon."

"Yay!"

Brad laughed. "Mom's busy getting the house all perfect, and Dad's making some phone calls." He paused. "Mark, Josh and Zack told their story to Dad plus the cops. Word's out there that you took a bullet for them."

"Okay," Danny said. "Well, what's that mean?"

"ZNN called and they asked if Daniel Huff, the underclassman hero, would like to do an interview with them."

Danny laughed. "Are you serious? Is that what they called me?"

"Absolutely." Brad's eyes were alive with energy. "Danny, you're a hero. You can have these fucking news people eating out of the palm of your hand. The whole town will be lining up to kiss your ass. You saved three guys and you should get credit for it. And you can make sure to mention what Andre and Calvin did to you. It might even help with one or two of Dad's lawsuits."

"Brad, I don't- I don't wanna talk about it." Danny stared at his legs. "I don't know, man. I don't know if I wanna talk to… to anyone about… about…"

"You won't have to answer any questions you don't want to. And I'll be with you the whole time. I'll be right there beside you."

Danny thought about that for a long time. "You will?"

"Yes. I'm so proud of you, Danny. Talk to these people and they and Dad and I can make you a hero."

"Brad, I'm never even gonna drive a car now."

"They can adapt a car, you know. Like, put stuff in it so it can be driven by somebody with… you know, who's got a disability and whatever."

"How do _you_ know that?"

"I went to the library and I looked it up." Brad seemed very proud of the fact that he'd read a book, or gone to a library at all.

Danny laughed, and that made him feel better. "How do I know this is even gonna work?"

"I know people, and Dad knows way more people. Mom knows people, too. And these ZNN people know what you did. They know who the Huffs are and they know better than to fuck us over if we let them come into the house and talk to you."

"I don't remember that much."

"You don't need to. Just tell them what you know. I'll help."

"Brad, I don't wanna remember."

"Danny, wouldn't you like to fuck over the people who did this to you? You know what faggots those two always were. They should've killed themselves years ago. Nobody would've missed them. You fucking become a hero, Danny, it'll be good for you. They might even ask you to write a fucking book or something."

Danny lowered his voice. "Will I get pussy?"

"Everything still working?"

Danny glanced downward, then laughed at the ridiculousness of doing that. "Uh, yeah. Well, this one time, I threw a bunch of stuff 'cause I didn't get toast, and this hot nurse got mad at me, and I got a boner, and that was awkward."

"So that's a yes."

"Sure. I only asked Pops about it like five hundred times."

Brad laughed. "Nice. So, yeah, dude. You go on TV and Dad makes you into a hero and the Huffs all get to be even bigger heroes in New Stratford than we were before. We'll get you whatever car you want, adapt it so you can drive it, and- yeah."

The blond fifteen-year-old pulled a solemn face. "You got over this fast."

Brad stopped smiling. "No, I-I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry-"

Danny grinned. "Nah, I'm just fucking with ya. So when do I get to go home?"

"Tomorrow morning sound good?"

"Yeah." Danny thought about something a few moments. Then he added, "I'm gonna tell 'em the truth, Brad. Everything I remember. I want those faggots' families run outta this fucking town. I want 'em to pay."

"They will, Danny. They'll fucking pay. You just talk to those reporters and Dad's gonna make it happen. I'm gonna help him and we'll get it done."

"Don't leave while I'm talking to those people. I want you with me the whole fucking time."

"Done, man."

Danny suddenly started to cry. "I wanna go home, Brad. I want to… Can't I go home today?"

"It's just one more night." Brad knelt and hugged Danny, who hugged him back fiercely. "Everything's gonna be all right."

"Thanks, Brad." Danny hesitated. "I love you."

"I love you, too, man."

* * *

 **A/N: 6-1-2018. Uploaded 10-21-2018.  
**

 **Got this idea outta nowhere on May 30, 2018, and wrote all 15 pages in about two days, then spent some time editing it and making sure to remove as many errors as I could.**

 **I originally had some ideas about Brad Huff having a younger brother who got killed on Zero Day, but nobody with that last name was among the 12 dead listed, so I decided to have the OC of Danny Huff be permanently crippled on Zero Day instead.**

 **In a highly stressful and traumatic situation, it is entirely possible- actually, it can be quite easy- to misunderstand what someone is saying or to remember it incorrectly. Danny's conscious mind retains relatively little of what happened to him on May 1** **st** **.**

 **Mark, Zack and Josh, who ran for it and remembered Danny getting shot and telling them to leave when in fact he begged them to come back for him, probably misheard Danny over the gunfire and amidst the stress of the crisis. Then when they each tried to piece it together, they decided, based upon their flawed recollections, that Danny Huff- who is popular and charismatic like his brother- took the bullet on purpose and called out for them to leave him and thus save themselves.**

 **Lawsuits were filed by and against numerous people and against more than one group, agency or organization in the aftermath of Columbine. There is no reason to believe the massacre at Iroquois High would have been any different.**

 **I tried to construct this whole thing as plausibly as I could. I feel like I did a decent enough job. Was Danny Huff a hero? No. He even knows that at first, before he begins to convince himself, with his brother's help, that he deserves that title and begins to embrace it. But many people seized upon the moment for their own advantage after Columbine, some out of a desire for revenge, power, or a misguided sense of justice. That the Huffs quickly see a chance to add luster to the family name and get revenge on the Gabriel and Kriegman clans at the same time seems all too realistic and plausible to me.**

 **In trying to find a way to characterize and depict the Huff family, I ultimately settled upon the Malfoys from "Harry Potter" and in particular their depiction in Dethryl's "They Shook Hands" alternate HP series. The Malfoys are seen by many as vain, corrupt, even evil, but they have tradition, a strong sense of identity, and pride. They are nothing if not proud, and see themselves as special. The Huffs, in my depiction, are the same way, and Mr. Huff ruthlessly goes about what he sees as defending his clan, avenging injuries and insults to it, and seizing upon a chance to benefit his sons and family, much as I believe Mr. Malfoy would in his place.**

 **All reviews are welcome. Virtually nobody ever posts a review on this site, especially in a low-traffic archive like this, so, review away, and be as lengthy about it as you want, positive or negative. I can take it and you do not need to worry about my feelings.**

 **Make sure to take a look at calgabriel's work if you like mine.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


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